


A Tasertricks Christmas Carol

by hquinzelle



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, He especially hates Santa Claus, Loki hates Christmas, Loki is not nice, tasertricks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hquinzelle/pseuds/hquinzelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas Carol, with a Tasertricks twist.  All-human AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tasertricks Christmas Carol

Loki sneered out the window as the limo made its way towards his apartment building. Everywhere he looked, it was Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. Christmas lights, Christmas trees, people rushing in and out of stores with bags filled with brightly wrapped packages. Everyone was smiling and greeting each other, laughing, exclaiming at the decorations…it was enough to make him throw up, if he thought about it really hard.

The limo drove by a building with a man dressed in a Santa suit standing next to a kettle, ringing a bell. Loki grimaced – he _especially_ couldn’t stand Santa Claus…the white beard reminded him of his late father, Odin.

The limo finally came to a halt at the curb in front of his apartment building – not that anyone else lived there, he owned and was the sole occupant of the building - and his limo driver came around and opened the door for him. He got out and straightened his jacket, then stepped away from the curb. He started to walk towards the apartment building when he heard a hesitant, “Sir?”

He steeled his shoulders and turned around, snarling, “You’re still here?”

The driver – Loki struggled to think of his name…Bob something? – took off his hat and looked down at the ground. He turned the hat over and over in his hand as he stammered, “Yes, sir.   I was…I was…”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all day!!” Loki growled impatiently.

He just wanted to go upstairs and get on his computer to check how his hostile takeover of Stark Enterprises was going, not stand here and listen to this idiot blather.

“It’s just…” the limo driver looked up, finally meeting his eyes as he continued, “Tomorrow’s Christmas, sir, and I was hoping to take a half day off…to spend time with my family.”

Loki thought for a moment, mentally making a calculation, before snapping, “Very well…but I’ll dock you half a day’s pay.”

He turned and walked away, ignoring the driver as he said, “Thank you sir! Thank you very much! Merry Christmas!”

“Bah! Humbug!” Loki said.

He was almost at the door when he heard a throat clear, and a tentative, “Excuse me, sir?”

He gritted his teeth.

“What now?”

Instead of his limo driver, two men with questionable taste in clothing stood before him, their expressions hopeful.

“We are collecting funds for the indigent and destitute,” one man said.

Loki stared at him.

Even though he knew exactly what they were saying, Loki asked, “I’m sorry, you’re collecting funds for what?”

“We’re collecting for the poor,” the second man said, tipping his hat.

“Oh, well, why didn’t you say so?” Loki asked. He paused, pretending to consider what the gentlemen said, before spreading hands in supplication.

“You do realize if you give money to the poor, they won’t be poor anymore, right?” he asked.

The two men looked at each other before looking back at Loki.

“Well, I…” the second man said.

“And if they’re not *poor* anymore, then you won’t have to raise money for them anymore.”

“Well, I suppose…” the first man said, clearly confused.

“…and if you don’t have to raise money for them anymore, then you’d be out of a job. Oh please, gentlemen, don’t ask me to put you out of a job. Not on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t do that, Mr. Odinson.” The second man said, scratching his head as he looked at his partner, then back to Loki.

Loki grabbed a wreath from the apartment building door – earning a displeased look from the doorman in return – and handed it to the gentlemen.

“Well then, I suggest you give this to the poor and be gone,” he said, stalking into the apartment building and slamming the door in their faces.

“Merry Christmas,” the doorman muttered under his breath. When Loki stopped, peering at him, he started straight ahead with a stoic expression.

Loki went to press the button to call the penthouse elevator when it morphed into the face of a beautiful woman with long red hair.

“Loki,” the face said.

Loki gasped and stepped back, shaking his head. When he looked back at the wall, however, the button was just a button again.

He looked around suspiciously, but no one else seemed to have noticed except for the doorman, who quickly acted like he hadn’t seen his employer jump away from a wall for no apparent reason.

“Humbug!” Loki said angrily as he pressed the button (which, thankfully, was still just a button) again. He stepped into the elevator; as the doors closed, he reached for the button for his floor when _that_ button morphed into the face of his former business partner, Lorelei.

“Loki,” she said again.

Loki squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” he chanted as he blindly pushed the button, breathing a sigh of relief when his finger met cool plastic.

When the elevator finally opened, he took one last look at the buttons (still just buttons) before rushing into his study, slamming and locking the door behind him.

He loosened his tie and threw his jacket on the leather couch as he walked over to the table and poured himself a large draught of whiskey.

“That’s better,” he said after taking a large drink, savoring the taste of the expensive whiskey. Warmth spread throughout his body, taking away some of the chill of the room.

“Just something I hate,” he said, laughing shakily as he took the glass over to his desk and sat down in front of his computer.

He picked up a pen and made a note on his desk blotter to buy the Morton’s steakhouse where he had purchased lunch, then fire all of the staff and close it down.

“It’s my civic duty,” he said to himself, “I have to keep anyone else from getting sick.”

He turned his attention back to his computer, then pulled up his email. He was immediately annoyed when he saw the first email was from his overly cheerful, simpleton of a brother, Thor.

He thought about just deleting it, but in a rare show of sentiment he opened the email, glanced at the contents, and _then_ deleted it.

“Bah! Humbug!” he said.

The email had contained an invitation to Christmas dinner – unlike his brother, Thor loved Christmas, and always made a fuss over it. Loki would rather have a root canal – make that _multiple_ root canals – then spend one minute with Thor, his lovey-dovey wife Jane, and their annoying offspring.

Disappointed to see that there were no emails about the Stark Enterprises takeover, he got up and moved towards the door, ready to turn in early – the sooner he went to sleep, the sooner he could wake up, and the sooner Christmas would almost be over.

He was just about to the door when he heard a noise, a noise similar to the clanking of chains against the Italian marble, and smelled a faint hint of Lorelei’s signature perfume, Dior Hypnotic Poison.

“Loki,” Lorelei’s voice said from outside the door, “Loki, I know you’re in there.”

Loki turned and ran back to his desk, grabbing his gun from his desk drawer.

“I don’t know who you are, but I’ve got a gun! Go away, or I’ll shoot!” He said, his normally unflappable demeanor gone as he pointed the gun towards the door, cursing as he saw his hands were shaking.

The only sound was that of his heart pounding in his ears. When he didn’t hear anything, he lowered the gun slightly and moved back to the door. He paused to make sure he was still alone, then threw the door wide open.

Nothing…the hallway was completely empty.

“What is wrong with me tonight?” he said.

“Loki.”

Lorelei suddenly appeared in front of him.

He jumped, his hand twitching and accidentally pressing the trigger. The bullet went through her, embedding itself in the opposite wall.

“Really? You _do_ realize I’m a ghost, right? Good thing I’m already dead,” she said dryly, looking behind her at the damage; the bullet would have hit her in the heart if she had been solid.

His phone began to ring on his desk. He backed up, never taking his eyes from her and picked up the phone.

“Mr. Odinson –“

“Everything is fine, I was just cleaning my gun and it went off,” Loki barked before slamming the receiver done.

Lorelei came into the room and sat on the couch, taking care to artfully drape her chains around her.

Loki arched an eyebrow as he watched the process…now that he could take a closer look, it was easy enough to see she was a ghost. She was still gorgeous, and dressed in the height of fashion just as she had been the last time he’d seen her, but she was transparent…and then there were the chains.

Large metal links encased her arms, legs, neck…indeed, her whole body seemed to be wrapped in the chains, each of which ended or was intersected by heavy padlocks with no keys.

“What is…all this?” Loki asked, motioning towards the chains.

“These old things?” Lorelei said, shrugging when he nodded.

“Remember when I was alive I used my considerable powers of charm and seduction to wheedle clients out of secrets that enabled us to take over their companies?” she asked.

Loki smiled fondly.

“Yes, and all in the same day. Oh, you had skills, Lorelei.”

“Yes,” she said, grinning for a moment before frowning and correcting herself, “I mean, no! I was wrong to do so! And so, as punishment, I’m forced to carry these heavy chains for eternity…maybe even longer.”

Loki stared at her.

“You don’t believe me…or even believe that I’m here, do you.” Lorelei said.

“I find it extremely hard to,” Loki answered.

“Why do you doubt your senses?” Lorelei leaned back against the couch, bringing some of her best assets into view…Loki looked away, feeling like the worst sort of pervert for ogling a ghost.

Lorelei grinned, almost as if she could read his thoughts.

“I could be sleeping, and this could be a dream…or I could merely have a severe case of indigestion, and you could be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of steak sauce, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato.”

He turned around and walked towards the bookcase, where he stared blankly at nothing in particular.

“Humbug, I tell you; humbug!” he exclaimed.

At this Lorelei gave a frightful cry, and shook her chains. Startled, Loki clutched at the bookcase.

“Do not take my words lightly, Loki. Your chains are even longer and heavier than mine,” she said.

Loki suddenly felt a heavy pressure around his neck and arms, and looked down in panic, expecting to see the chains she spoke of…but there was nothing there.

“My time grows short,” she said impatiently. He turned to look at her as she continued, “I am here tonight to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate.”

“You will be haunted by three spirits.”

“Is that the chance and hope you mentioned?” he demanded, in a faltering voice.

“It is.”

“I – I think I’d rather not,” Loki said.

“Without their visits,” Lorelei said, “You cannot hope to avoid my fate. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls One.”

“Can’t I just get see them all at once, and get it over with?” Loki asked hopefully.

Lorelei looked at him in askance before continuing as if he hadn’t spoken, “Expect the second on the next night at the same hour, and the third on the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate.”

She started to fade as he watched, and he reached out to her.

“Lorelei, wait!” he said, his voice tinged with desperation.

“Farewell, Loki. Listen to the spirits, and you may still have a chance.” She shook her chains one last time and then was completely gone.

Loki stood there for a long time after she was gone, stunned…but as the minutes passed, he found it easier to explain away what he had seen, and his terror faded.

“Spirits! Bah! Humbug!” he said.

He looked at the clock and saw it was close to midnight. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he went straight to bed, without undressing, and instantly fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this...there will be at least four more chapters. No Darcy in the first one, but she will feature in the rest. I know it's a predictable story, but hopefully I've managed to make it enjoyable anyway!


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